Annorn is known as the Keeper of Souls, for he is the god who protects the souls of lesser Galtic individuals, keeping them ready until their next rebirth. Such Galtic souls stay in the villages in the forests of the gods, and do not see the gods, who inhabit the castles and highland towns, together with their chosen companions, the heroes and other greater Galtic souls who have died and now hunt with the gods. Annorn, of course, is not responsible for such souls as these -- he is a god of the common folk, and he wanders from village to village in Godland with his knights, arbitrating disputes and breaking up fights in taverns, and he intercedes with the gods when necessary.

Offerings to him are made at the temples of the White Goddess, usually placed in a leather coracle in the temple, which represents the boat in which Galtic souls are ferried to Godland by Annornís Ferryman, who is never named, and who makes even Annorn a bit nervous. Offerings to Annorn are usually used to endow healers (it is well known that Annorn dislikes to work too hard, so the fewer dead, the better), or to pay for funeral rites for the poor. Annorn is also well known to appreciate when young maidens dance for him in stone circles, or around a dolmen, and the less clothing, the better, as far as Annorn is concerned. Annorn is a bachelor god, and a prodigious wencher in Godland (and elsewhere, if he can trick Brelady into guarding all of his souls for a while, but Brelady is usually too smart for him).

Annorn has luxuriant long brownish-blond hair, and wears leather armor with exquisitely worked iron bracers upon his wrists. His trousers are of a complex tartan which is said to draw the eyes of any virgin, and he got them when the great troll of the sea blinked first in a staring contest (Annornís eyes are the eyes of the perfect guardian -- he never blinks). Annorn is known for his wisdom in resolving squabbles among the mortal souls of the villagers, and it is impossible to trick him, but he is also known for his penchant for complicated schemes, generally prurient in object, which go disastrously awry. Despite all of his flaws (vanity, for example), the Galtic peasantry would never choose to replace him as their god of death, even if lots of the gods could probably do a better job, because Annorn has flair, charisma, and the common touch.

Clerics of Annorn are usually militant, wandering clerics who seek to put undead spirits to rest, kill evil necromancers, meet lots of young, admiring ladies, and see to it that as few people as possible actually die and add to Annornís administrative duties. They are especially gifted at raise dead and resurrection spells, and are almost never of the nobility. They do meet, on occasion, when the omens so indicate, to think deep thoughts. All of them, and Annorn as well, apparently, consider these meetings to be a chore. The meetings therefore often coincide with forest bacchanales in honor of Thryciss.